


How Paris Changes a Man.

by trenchescalators



Series: Les Jumeaux [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, little gay, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trenchescalators/pseuds/trenchescalators
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This first instalment follows the first episode ‘Friends and Enemies’ only in this story, d'Artagnan’s twin sister means that story changes. Fates intertwine where they shouldn’t, people find friends where they should find enemies and perhaps lovers where they should find mere friends. </p><p>D'Artagnan and his sister’s future is theirs to write, but can they be trusted with such a responsibility?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friends and enemies

**Author's Note:**

> Only the beginning follows the story of 'Friends and Enemies'. After this I think it'll be a tad difficult to keep to the story line. 
> 
> However, the fic will go on as though somehow the episodes happened as they did. (Idk bro I've barely thought this shit out?)

A band of three trot through the mud and rain on horse back. The rain had been battering down on them for the best part of the afternoon, much to the distress of the younger male rider. "We should retire for the night." He suggest, glancing at his father to the right of him. "Paris shall still be there come morning." 

To the left of his father was his sister. "Come now Charlie, it's just a little rain." She teases with a smirk, pushing her dripping hair from her face.  
He frowned, expecting nothing less from his twin, and looked to his father for an answer. "I could continue on all night, son. But if you need to rest..." Their father replied, before cantering ahead towards the inn. The son laughed at his father's cheek and shared a knowing look with his sister.

They caught up with him just as he dismounted his steed. "Aida, help your brother settle the horses." Their father entered the inn as Charles pulled his horse and his fathers into the stables behind Aida. 

"How long do you think we'll be in Paris for?" Aida asked.  
Charles shrugged, "Can't be longer than a few days, Aida. I doubt father wants to hang about."  
She nodded in agreement, "I hope we get held up for a while."  
Charles groaned. "Not this again Aida..." He began brushing down his horse, drawing his attention from his sister.  
"Come on Charlie." She cooed and sat on a stool outside of the stall Charles was in, "You're not meant for Gascony. Neither of us are. You may be a farm boy, but at heart you're something else. I don't believe are paths lie in the country, not for a minute." Charles had heard this speech before, of course. It was all Aida talked about. It rattled him each time she spoke of it because part of him agreed. He belonged in Gascony by default, it felt right because it's just what he knew. However, he knew that he was to belong somewhere else. Aida was the same, she's just as wayward as himself perhaps in a different way. 

He sighed, "What would you have us do? We can't leave father alone with the farm." That's when he heard a gun click into gear. Slowly he turned around to face Aida. There were two masked men, each holding a gun up to their heads. The man nudged Charles so that he was stood beside his sister, before the men began frisking down their bodies in search for goods to steal. There were two gun shots from nearby and at this Charles and Aida's snapped to look at each other and nodded. In sync, Aida and Charles kneed there captors in the face, sending them backwards to the ground. Charles' man lost grip of his gun on impact but he got back up quickly, withdrawing his sword. Charles did the same, and they were locked in fight. 

Aida's man did not lose his gun but nor did he rise quickly. Aida stood on his wrist hard, causing him to release his gun and squeal in pain. Aida chuckled lightly for his wrist, if not broken, was fractured. The man used his good hand to pull Aida's ankle from underneath her, landing her on the floor beside him. They wrestled for the upper hand, but he was sluggish and rolled over and grabbed hold on his pistol. She turned on him as he advanced on her but he was too late and the shot rang out, startling Charles' opponent briefly as the man Aida fought dropped down with a bullet between his eyes. Aida looked beyond him and at her brother who was gaining advantage on his tiring opponent anyway, then shot him dead as well. Charles looked at her and laughed. "You're so impatient. I had him." 

Aida smiled as he helped up. "Indeed." She nodded. They both ran outside to see a handful of men on horses gallop away, too late for them to chase them down. Their father came between them and watched them ride away. Overridden with anger, Charles thrust his sword into the ground with a yell. But Aida noticed the grief on their fathers face and watched as he fell to the ground, clutching his side. Charles rushed to his side, supporting his head, as Aida grasped his hand and peered at the ghastly wound.  
"Father? No! Father!" Charles was frantic, watching the light drain from his father's eyes. 

"Athos..." Their father choked out. "Athos..." His eyes fell shut and his breath left him limp in his sons arms. Aida's eyes water with tears but didn't let them fall. She took a deep breath and stood up, taking in the menacing look upon her brother's youthful face. 

"Come Charles, we must bury him properly." Aida said softly, her brothers eye fall down on to his fathers face.

"Here?" He questions, the anguish in his voice clear.  
"It's too far a journey back to Lupiac and we an hardly walk into Paris carting a dead body." Charles nodded in understand and Aida went to find the innkeeper, hoping at least he was alive to help. 

                                  ⚜

Later that evening, the d'Artagnans had arrived in Paris. Charles' vendetta motivated him enough to continue to Paris through the rain. They found a small inn wedged into the city of Paris that was arguably over priced and disgusted the Gascons to no end. It bothered Charles more than Aida though, for Aida was just happy to be unsettled for once in her sheltered life.

They had buried their father back at the inn with the help of the innkeeper who escaped unscathed. Anger boiled in Charles stomach at this - his father died but the innkeeper did not. Immediately, Charles scolded himself but remained bitter. The innkeeper told them the man who killed his father and announced himself as Athos of the King's Musketeers, which had given Charles a destination to avenge his father.

Aida and Charles were sat at a table at the tavern beneath the inn, Charles nursing his third pint and Aida still on her first as she'd never been an avid drinker. Admittedly, Aida had got some funny looks when she got into the swarm of the city life. She was very obviously a woman, with dark long hair and a slim face like that of her brother. Her breast weren't overly large but still undeniably there, so her natural feminine body clashed with her male attire. Although this was unheard of in most places, people in Lupiac had gotten used to it and didn't question her. However, Paris was a new story. She got many stares and gawks as she waltzed down the streets along side her brother.

"We shall seek out the Musketeers garrison in the morning, I'll duel Athos and kill him." Charles told Aida who furrowed her eyebrows at the sudden attention the name 'Athos' had brought to lady across the tavern. Aida looked away and back at her brother.  
"Not that I doubt you, brother. But there will be more than one musketeer, how do expect to walk in there and take on one and not the others?" Aida asked. She did not expect a realistic answer from her brother, after all, this was a poorly though out idea driven by emotion. Realistically, nothing ideally good will come of it for either of them. It would make Aida a hypocrite to stop her brother though. She had faith in him and was eager to see what Paris will bring; good or bad. 

"I'll take on every man who wishes to fight me, anything else would be a dishonour to all father has taught us. Besides," he paused with an adoring smile at his sister, "you'll have my back." 

"I must admit, kicking some Musketeer arse is more than I bargained for when I wished for a little drama in Paris." She began, "But it sounds like a laugh and wherever you go I follow, brother." She told him and brought her pint up to meet his.  
"I wouldn't have it any other way, sister." They toasted to this and as Aida brought her glass to her lips she looked over to the woman again. She was ascending the staircase following a very large, blatantly rich man. When Aida looked at her she just caught her gaze shifting away, as to not be caught staring. She frowned and thought nothing of it again all night. 

 

⚜

Charles was the first to awaken. He got out of bed without waking Aida, who had took most of the blanket in the night. Charles made a mental note to complain about it later as he slipped his jacket on. 

A scream ripped through the inn, startling Aida awake. Charles opened the door to face a bloody dagger lodged in the door. He wedged it from the door and made his way down the hallway to find patrons gathered around the room opposite him. In the room lay the bloody corpse of a huge man in a bath tinted red with his slit throat. The landlady looked across at Charles and down at the dagger in his hand. "You!" She screeched, pointing an accusing finger at the dagger. It took a few seconds for Charles to put two and two together before dropping the dagger and racing back to his room with a cohort of angry people behind him. He slammed the door shut and pushed the wardrobe across it. 

Aida has just pulled on her boots and stood up. "What the fuck did you do?" She groaned when Charles rushed around to her and grabbed her wrist.  
"No time. Come on." And with that he leapt out of the window and into the street.  
Aida stared after him shocked and then with a cynical laugh, threw herself after him. Unlike Charles she slid down the roof and landed harshly on her feet. "Get up you bloody moron. Run!"

The landlady started hollering, hanging her head out of the window. "There he is! Murderer!" 

The twins ran away from the inn, and weaved down a few alley ways before coming out into a busy crowd. They had lost each other but didn't worry overmuch as they knew that eventually they'd find each other again. Or, more precisely, find the same trouble again.

Charles pushed his was down a row of market stalls, some people still on his tail. He hid behind a column and saw a young woman stood next to him near the stall. He pulled her around to face him. "I'll give you 5 livre if you kiss me." Without waiting for a reply, he kissed her and turned to hide behind her as the mob ran past them. "Wow that actually worked." He breathed.

She pulled away and smacked him hard across the face. "Touch me again and I'll gut you like a fish." She threatened. 

Charles held his hands up in surrender.  
"I beg your pardon mademoiselle." He apologised as he turned away.  
"Madame." She corrected him as he stumbled a little away from her. "Are you alright? You don't look well." She offered as she stepped forward.  
He smiled and nodded at her before taking another step and crumbling to the floor.

When he came to, the woman was hovering above him patting a damp towel to his forehead. He cautiously sat up and she moved away from him. "Where am I?"  
"My husband's house." She replied.  
"I need to go, I have to find my sister. We have an appointment with the Musketeer, Athos." He rushed out and got up from the bed.  
"I know him. Is he a friend of yours?" She asked, rising from the chair beside the bed.  
"Not exactly." He replied. Slipping his jacket back on her turned to face the red haired woman.  
"Look, you can barely walk you're in no shape to be fighting." She said but her words did not deter him. "I have three brothers, I know that look."  
"That's my problem and, with respect, it's none of your business." Charles said, unintentionally sounding rude. 

Charles was unusually eager to find his sister with the disorientation of being in a new place, despite his confidence in her whereabouts.  
The woman looked at the ground and muttered, "Should've left you in the gutter." Charles perked up, immediately feeling awful for being so ungrateful.

"I'm sorry," he began sincerely. "I am not usually so impolite. May I know the name of my saviour?" Charles asked softly, looked at her face in encouragement for her to return his gaze.

"Bonacieux. Constance Bonacieux." She replied, avoiding a tone that suggested she completely forgave him. 

"Athos killed my father, Constance." Charles told her, at this she finally met his eyes. "My sister Aida is probably out there looking for the garrison. I wouldn't be surprised if she's found it already. That's why I need to face him. My name is d'Artagnan. Think kindly of my name, if you think of it at all." And with that, d'Artagnan left the Bonacieux household in search of the Musketeer's garrison.


	2. Friends has 'ends' in

After asking for directions from a few people, Charles (or now, d'Artagnan) found the garrison. As expected Aida was there already, sitting in front of a cart in front of the garrison entrance, unsuspectingly enough.   
"Aida, how long have you been here." d'Artagnan asked her as he offered her a hand. She took it a hauled herself off the ground.  
"Not too long. I bumped into some handsome fella'. It was an accident on my part but I can't say the same for him. Said his name was Aramis, and that he was a musketeer in an attempt to impress me. I followed him here." Aida explained, looking beyond d'Artagnan and into the garrisons walls. "Now where were you?" She inquired. "Charming up some Parisian mademoiselle, I suppose." She accused with a teasing smile.

d'Artagnan smiled, "Madame, actually."   
Aida gawked at him, "Oh, how Paris changes a man." She said dramatically, to which d'Artagnan knocked her on the arm playfully before approaching the garrison and drawing his sword, Aida hurrying after him.

"I'm looking for Athos!" d'Artagnan thundered into the garrison heedlessly, however Aida hovered in the entrance watching. This was d'Artagnan's fight and she knew this, she was not as hotheaded as her brother and knew that he needed this more than she did. So she was happy to watch and help if need be. 

A trio turned their attention to the young, angered boy. Aida notes that one of the three was the man who she followed here but he was yet to notice her. "You have found him." The right-most man answered monotonously.

"I am d'Artagnan, of Lupiac in Gascony. Prepare to fight, one of us dies." D'Artagnan demanded circling round further into the garrison. 

"Now that's how you make an entrance." Remarked Aramis, and he and the other large man chuckled. 

Aida approached the two men on the side, but neither of them noticed her until she spoke. "You would do well to take him more seriously. I've never a known a man to beat d'Artagnan in a duel, besides the man who taught him." She informed them. Aida made use of her brother's new name, as she would be the last to deny him his change of character when this is what she's wanted for them both for so long. Aramis looked at her, confused by her presence and not quite understanding the coincidence of her being in association with the wild boy causing chaos. Porthos just stared at the little lady dressed like a boy besides him. 

"May I ask why?" Athos asked his challenging as he drew his sword.   
"You murdered our father, Alexandre d'Artagnan, in cold blood." D'Artagnan replied, distaste in his voice. 

"You are mistaken, I remember the men I kill and that name means nothing to me." Athos assured him, yet remained stoic and devoid of emotion which infuriated Aida to no end.   
D'Artagnan ran at Athos hollering, "Murderer!" And they were locked in a fierce duel. Much to Aida's amazement, d'Artagnan faltered a few times but caught up again hastily. 

"Amazing..." Aramis breathed. "He's keeping up with Athos." He observed, and Aida felt a swell of pride for her brother.   
"Rubbish, he's trying not hurt the lunatic." The larger man replied and Aida frowned.   
Whipping her dagger from her sleeve she pressed it to the man's side, at which Aramis grabbed at the hilt of his sword. "Speak ill of my brother again, and I'll make jewellery of your organs." She threatened. She gave him a heavy shove, surprisingly forceful for her own weight and stormed over to the other side of the garrison to watch her brother more closely. 

Aramis laughed lightly, "I love that in a woman."  
Porthos looked down at him, "What passion?"  
Aramis looked up at his friend and smiled, "Violence."

Athos and d'Artagnan were still fighting, but they were both tiring. Aida could see that her brother was going to lose. "Enough!" Athos bellowed in the face of d'Artangan. He had d'Artagnan pinned to a post and disarmed, his dagger at his throat. He moved the dagger away and stabbed the post beside d'Artagnan's head. "That could've been your throat." He intimidated. "I didn't kill your father and I don't want to kill you." Athos said with an air of finality before walking away from the boy.

Some would say that Aida was tad protective of her brother. They would be correct.   
She ripped the dagger from the wood a threw it at Athos so that it would settle in the post that Aramis was conveniently leaning against. "And that could've been you're back." She retorted with the same lifeless tone Athos had used that pissed her off more than anything. 

The three musketeers gawked at the pair as she drew sword and d'Artagnan picked his up. "Fight me now, or die on your knees." D'Artagnan ordered.   
"He doesn't care which." Aida added with a juxtaposed smile.

Athos didn't make a move, "No?" So d'Artagnan did. He charged at him again only for his blade to be stopped by Amaris'.  
"He said enough." Aramis said firmly.  
"Very well." D'Artagnan nodded, "I'll fight both of you." D'Artagnan took on both the musketeers for short while when the third man joined in. 

Hoping d'Artagnan would give up but knowing he wouldn't, Aida groaned into her hands. "Jesus Christ." She made her way around the edge of the garrison all eyes otherwise engaged in the scene playing out in the middle of the garrison. All eyes except one pair, as a woman lurked in the shadows of the garrison watching Aida curiously as she came up behind Aramis with her dagger and grabbed him with the blade to his throat. "Stop now!" She shouted as loudly as she could. She got the attention of the two musketeers and her brother who had a faint smile on his lips at his sisters actions. The smile fades quickly though, as Porthos withdrew his pistol and aimed it her while his and Athos' sword were still trained on d'Artagnan.   
"Fight fair." She encourage with a faux polite voice. "Our quarrel is with him not you two. Besides, three against one is hardly fair is it Aramis?" She gibed. 

Athos and Porthos looked at Aramis questioningly. "We were...erm..." Aramis started, "acquainted earlier this morning." He admitted with a guilty look. Both Athos and Porthos rolled their eyes.   
"Indeed." Aida said, "Now are you boys going to play nicely or am I going to have to play dirty too?" 

"Nobody's playing anything, all of you out your weapons down." Came a shrill voice from across the garrison. 

There was silence as they all waited for someone to make the first move. Aida grew impatient quickly and growled, shoving Aramis away from her, "We weren't actually going to kill them." Athos said withdrawing from d'Artagnan, Porthos following suit. 

"We weren't? You should let me know next time." Porthos said as he sheathed his sword.   
"Madame Bonacieux, what are you doing here?" Athos asked as they all turned to face away from d'Artagnan, Aramis still a little on edge next to Aida. 

"I followed him because I knew he'd do something stupid." Madame Bonacieux replied.   
"I don't need you to protect me." D'Artagnan argued.   
"Yeah, that's what he's got me for." Aida chimed and d'Artagnan nudged her in annoyance.  
"Both of you shut up." Athos gave them both a look, angering d'Artagnan who was pulled back by his sister who shook her head. 

They were interrupted by an older guy who adorned a light blue cloak, flocked by a group of men. "What's all this? Actually never mind. Athos did you find Cornet?" The man exuded authority, up until this point it seemed like Athos' job but this man exceeded Athos tenfold.

"Give us twenty men and well search the road to Chartres." Athos said, but the man had other ideas judging by the look of regret on his face.   
"Athos these men have come to arrest you. You're to stand before the king immediately, charged with robbery and murder." At this the other two musketeers moved to draw their swords, protective of their friend. Something both Aida and d'Artagnan admired for they acted the same for each other. "I promised them no trouble." The man said and to Aida's surprise, the musketeers obeyed.

Realisation set in. "Ah, he's the captain." Aida whispered to her brother who watched the scene unfold. He was happy that Athos, the man who murdered his father, was getting punished. He was only sad that it was as he began to have doubts that this was really the man he wanted.  
Athos turned around and looked d'Artagnan down. "I am not the man you're looking for." He turned away and was escorted by the band of men.   
D'Artagnan pushed forward, "Then why did my father name you before he died?" 

His answer was simple and dull; "I don't know." And Athos of the King's musketeers was led from the garrison. 

"Not trying to be funny, brother..." Aida whispered. "But the sexual tension between you lot is choking me a little bit."  
D'Artagnan looked down at her with amusement plastered in his brow, "One would say much like Aramis' predicament not five minutes ago." They both laughed and walked away from the musketeers to leave.

Madame Bonacieux spoke up, "D'Artagnan, you two should come back with me I'd like to look at your injuries. I can only imagine they've worsened taking on three musketeers." Her eye narrowed accusingly and Aramis and Porthos.   
D'Artagnan was about to refuse the offer, "That'd be lovely, Madame." Aida answered graciously nodding at the kind lady. Constance nodded and walked ahead and the twins followed suit, not before Aida turned a blew a kiss over her shoulder at the two musketeer they'd left behind.

                                 ⚜

At the Bonacieux house, Constance tended to d'Artagnan's bruised ribs as Bonacieux babbled about his 'fine quality cloths and linens'. Aida cared not for any conversation as she mooched about the house, fiddling with trinkets that didn't belong to her. 

Then d'Artagnan spoke of how he'd failed their father and the loose ends he's found in place of achieving vengeance. Aida felt for him, it was important to her brother that their father was proud of him - even beyond the grave, it seemed. 

"I cannot rest until I know the truth." 

"That's lucky, because rest is out of the question." Aramis countered as he walked in alongside Porthos.   
D'Artagnan leapt up, his stance prepared for fight.   
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! We're not here to fight!" Aramis held his hand up in surrender.  
"Those musketeers," Porthos began. "Would you recognise any of them again?"   
D'Artagnan shook his head, no. "They all wore masks."  He replied.   
"I shot two of them." Aida said, Bonacieux choking on his own spit at the the notion of a woman wielding a weapon. She rolled her eyes, nothing subtle about it. "Their bodies will still be at the inn." 

Aramis nodded appreciatively, "Alright, saddle up."

"Hold on, this morning you try and kill them and now you're best friends?" Constance questions.  
"Athos is to be executed in the morning for crimes he did not commit." That is all Aramis says on the matter, before they bid the Bonacieuxs farewell. Aida gives a small nod to Constance on the way out with a reassuring smile, which was returned.  

                                 ⚜

When they arrive at the inn, they drag the corpses from the pit that they had been disposed in. The first body they dragged out was the man who had attacked Aida. Aramis observed the bullet hole perfectly between his eyes through he bridge of his nose. "You're a good shot then?" He asked, sounding impressed.  
Before Aida could reply, d'Artagnan did. "The best."  
Porthos chuckled, "You'll have to challenge Aramis for that title."   
Aramis glanced at her sideways as he moved the body out of the way. "With pleasure." She replied confidently. Aramis shook his head endearingly, disbelieving the pair of Gascons who have wreaked havoc since they arrived.

The other body had a bullet wound just below his heart. It had torn through material and into his chest, killing him instantly. Of course, Aida had meant to aim higher. To actually shred his heart. However the shot she made done the job anyway. 

"Neither of these men are musketeers." Aramis spat out, disgusted that they had done such dreadful deeds in their name.  
"There's two bullet holes in his clothes." D'Artagnan pointed out.  
"So?"   
"So, I only shot him once." Aida told them. Porthos moved the clothes to find no wound beneath to match the hole.   
"This has to be Cornet's uniform." Porthos pieced together. "These musketeers didn't just disappear. They were attacked." 

The group retook the route Cornet would have taken.  
"Perfect place for an ambush." Aramis commented, "Cornet wouldn't have suspected a thing."  
Porthos growled, "They shot them down like animals and stripped them of their uniform."   
"The men who did this, they killed your father. Help us find them and clear Athos' name." Aramis looked to d'Artagnan who nodded solemnly.

Porthos picked something off the floor, a look of realisation in his eyes. " You could go a year in Paris without seeing a new Spanish doubloon and that makes two in a week."  
"Where did you find that?" Aida inquired.   
"I won it in a card game." Porthos said, "with a Red Guard." 

They rode back into Paris hastily. Porthos had gone to find Dujon and Aida insisted on coming with him. D'Artagnan and Aramis had gone to the place to take said Dujon once acquired.  
When Porthos entered the tavern, all fell silent. "I hate when that happens." He told Aida who just shook her head in awe.   
"Lovely crowd in here - so chatty!" He mocked.

The bartender looked up at Porthos shiftily, "I don't want any trouble." He said.  
Porthos leaned on the bar casually. "I'm looking for Dujon." Aida noticed a man sat back in the corner raise his head, then she knew where Dujon was.  
"Scrawny bloke. Red Guard." 

The bartender shrugged. "I ain't seen him."  
"Funny, I was told he was here."  
"Well you were told wrong." All the while, Dujon had been creeping up behind Porthos. Aida was about to alert him but she didn't need to. Porthos turned around and knocked him out cold, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket before he hit the ground.   
"Would you believe it, huh? Here he is." Porthos smiled at the bartender with malice before dragging Dujon out with him, Aida behind him. 

"How did you know he was behind you?" Aida asked him, genuinely interested in Porthos' seemingly heightened senses.   
"I grew up on the streets. The Court of Miracles, no less. It does one well to foresee things before they come, you'll last longer." He replied.   
Aida sighed, "Yes but how did you do it?" She pushed, unhappy with he answer.  
Porthos' brow furrowed. Dujon being a dead weight Porthos hurled him over his shoulder with ease. "I'm not sure about the technicals of it. It's just instinct now, an evolution."  
Aida nodded half in understanding. "Could you teach me." Aida asked. Porthos was threw off guard. The last thing he expected from either of the Gascons was a request to learn. He was about to turn her down, tell her he couldn't teach something he didn't know how he learnt. But looking at her he saw pure curiosity and a hunger for change. For an evolution.   
"I can try, Aida. No promises." This was enough for her. She smiled gleefully, a slight skip in her step. "I didn't realise you's were staying on Paris for long." Porthos remarked, glancing down at the dark haired girl.

"If I have any say in the matter, which I will, we shall not be leaving at all." She told him and he smiled at her conviction. They came to the building and Aida held the door open for her new friend.

When Dujon came to he was put on his knees before Aramis and Porthos, Aida and d'Artagnan merely spectators to the side of the room.  
"Time to pay the reckoning for Cornet." Porthos began.  
"And I bet he's going to say, "I have no idea what you're talking about." Aramis  joked with Porthos.   
"And then we'll have to hurt him." Dujon trembled at Porthos' threat and glare.  
"At which point, he'll suddenly remember he killed him." Dujon shook his head in denial, but the musketeers ignored him.  
"Why wait? Let's just hurt him now." Dujon shook his head more violently, causing d'Artagnan to laugh lightly.  
"It could go like that."  
"Or we can just skip to the confession part."  
"It would save us time, and you pain."  
"A lot of pain." Porthos emphasised. 

Aida smirked, "I must admit, these pair are growing on me." She told her brother, who shrugged indifferently.  
"They did try to kill us when we arrived." D'Artagnan reasoned.  
Aida scoffed, "Oh yes, Charlie, we're so innocent ourselves."   
D'Artagnan looked at her affectionately, "You do not mind the small change?" He asked, referring to his name.  
"Not at all, d'Artagnan." She elaborated his name. "But you're still my little brother Charlie to me."   
D'Artagnan rolled his eyes, "We're twins, we're the same age." He said it like he'd said it before.  
"A minute younger still." She argued.

"I was just following orders!" Dujon cried.  
"He was just following orders." Porthos mocked him with a shrug.  
"Ah, we better let him go then." Aramis jested playfully.   
"I can't tell you. He'll kill me!" Dujon pleaded. 

Porthos hauled him up to his feet viciously, Aramis placing a hand on the big mans shoulder. "No need for that. We're not brutes." Aramis slowly turned his attention to Dujon with a look to portray innocence. "We'll shoot just shoot him." 

Dujon trembled as Porthos dragged him across the barn, trying his hands behind a post. "No! Listen! Please you can't -" Dujon protested weakly.   
Aramis took up his musket, "You know, people say I'm pretty good with these." He teased as he prepared his musket.   
Porthos shook his with a laugh, "Good?   
He's the best! He's so modest." 

Aramis began his taunting. "The musket isn't the most reliable weapon. From one hundred yards I'll probably miss and often as I hit. From fifty yards, well," Aramis shrugged nonchalantly. "I rarely miss. But from ten? It's just a matter of which vital organ I choose to hit first."

At Dujon quivered and hastily protested in vain. "Heart?" Porthos suggested but Aramis shook his head  
"Too swift." He reasoned. "The liver perhaps? Aramis offered thoughtfully.

"Oh! The stomach!" Aida chimed in eagerly.  
Aramis nodded in agreement, "Death is inevitable. But you'll bleed for hours first." Aramis goaded.  
Dujon shook his head violently. "You can't! This is murder." He argued.  
Porthos leaned in close to their captive, "We won't tell if you won't." Porthos said and moved away form Dujon.

Aramis readied the pistol, positioning it so it aligned with his mark - Dujon's stomach. He blew on the lit fuse and pulled the trigger but all that come of it was Porthos whispering 'bang' in Dujon's face. Dujon breathes heavily, shaking like a leaf against his bonds. 

Aramis groaned, "Ah I forgot the ball." He held up the musket ball and demonstratively moved it into the barrel of his musket. "This time..." He threatened lowly.   
"It was Captain Gaudet!" Dujon admitted desperately. "He said he wanted a few men for special mission, something unofficial. But Gaudet went crazy, he killed them all. None of us knew it would be murder." Dujon babbled in his defence, but the musketeers had intention of letting Dujon get away with what he'd done.

Porthos held out the two Spanish doubloons. "You took these from Cornet." Porthos accused.  
"His saddle bags were full of Spanish gold. Gaudet said we could share it. I just..." Dujon on was cut off when d'Artagnan grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head up to look at him.   
"Who killed my father!" He demanded harshly.   
Dujon whimpered, "Gaudet! It was Gaudet, he wanted to blacken Athos' name." Porthos tugged d'Artagnan back gently away from Dujon.

"I'm not like him. I'm not a killer." Dujon begged. "I am a soldier, like you." 

"Where is Gaudet now?" Aramis asked. No one took much notice of Dujon's pleading.   
"He's camped in the old ruins, outside the city gates. I'll show you where, just don't kill me."   
Porthos chuckled, "Now was that so hard?"


	3. Enemies and lovers are not that different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual development wow who would've thought

They lay across a slope scoping out Gaudet's camp. They had dragged Dujon along with them just in case he was lying. "The camp is too well guarded. You'll not take them by surprise."  
"Shut up." Porthos spat, giving Dujon a shove. Dujon bumped into Aida as a result and she nudged him back over just as forcefully, sending a glare in Porthos' direction. 

Porthos smiled back before looking at his fellow musketeer beside him. "The bridge is the only way in and out but there's too many for a frontal assault." Porthos observed.  
"I could take a couple out from here." Aramis suggested, but Porthos shook his head.  
"Nah, by the time you've reloaded the rest will be long gone. If we are to capture Gaudet and get back those stolen uniforms it'll have to be through stealth." Porthos instructed.  
"We need a distraction. Something they'd never expect." Aramis conluded, rubbing a hand down his beard in though.  
"I know something that might work." D'Artagnan told them hopefully. That's how they ended up in the Bonacieux house once more. 

Monsieur Bonacieux was out on work, luckily enough. For he'd surely object to what they were about to ask of Constance. "You want me to pretend to be a prostitute as a distraction." She asked incredulously.  
D'Artagnan nodded, "We wouldn't ask if we had an other option."  
"Why can't Aida do it?" Constance questioned. 

Aida laughed as if it was the stupidest question she had ever heard. "Yeah I won't be getting into a dress any time soon. Never mind some skimpy bloody corset." Aida told her. Constance looked ready to argue again before d'Artagnan spoke.  
"That. And I can hardly trust her to not lash out." D'Artagnan added.

Aida scoffed, "Excuse me but I have more self control than you'll ever have."  
Aramis interrupted. "This coming from the woman who bit my head of for merely kissing your hand."  
Aida folded her arms across her chest in defeat, sulkily looked away from everyone. "So will you help us?" D'Artagnan implored, using that face Aida knew worked a charm. 

Aida rolled her eyes at a brother and Constance sighed. "Fine. Fine. But don't ask anything like this of me again." She demanded and not even Aramis dared argue.

 

⚜

"You know, I kinda' feel bad for not stepping up to it now." Aida admitted regretfully from the shadows that they hid in. They watched Constance seduce the guard on the bridge and it took worryingly longer than they'd hoped.

"No offence, Aida." Aramis whispered. "But I agree with d'Artagnan. I cannot imagine you suppressing your temper. You pulled a dagger on both Porthos and I within ten minutes, if you recall."

Aida sighs loudly, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I still feel bad though." She knew it was no good feeling bad now and told herself to make up for where she'd slightly failed in the upcoming siege.

Porthos came up behind the guard Constance was working on and knocked him over the head. He fell onto Constance and the large musketeer hid behind them as another guard walks by across the bride. "Oi, my turn next!" He yelled, and Porthos could faintly hear Aida making sick noises as he grasped the guards arm and waved it. 

Constance pushed the guard off her and Porthos ran ahead. As Aramis crossed her he tutted. "Ten sous? Shame on you." She rolled her eyes and he continued onwards.  
As Aida came past her she shot her an apologetic look but said nothing as she handed over one of her daggers. A peace offering, in Aida's mind.

When d'Artagnan passed her he paused and put his hands on her hips. The gesture appeared suggestive but it felt anything but. "I am in your debt." D'Artagnan told her, pouring all the sincerity he had into it.  
"I'm doing this for Athos." She replied, trying to sound at least a little irate. D'Artagnan's eyes wandered as a young Gascon boy's would and Constance didn't have to try to be irritated anymore. "Stop looking at me like that." She demanded with a slap on his chest.  
He held his pistols out in front of her. "Stay over there and you'll be safe, okay? If you're in any danger, use this." He handed her his pistol and she nodded, dread in her eyes, they parted ways.

Behind a broken wall they hid as the experienced musketeers scoped out the camp. "There he is. That's Gaudet over there."  
"He thinks no one can touch him." Porthos spat, observing the man closely as Aramis looked around counting guards. 

Aida turned to her brother, about to give him words of encouragement. As she looked into his eyes she knew she wouldn't need to. D'Artagnan had been growing angrier by the minute, the fire that once burned fierce as they rode into Paris was reawakened. She took her gaze away from her brother, aware that if she stared any longer the feeling would become mutual.  
She withdrew her sword for now, knowing it would be most beneficial while they were still outnumbered. She would move to her more beloved set of knives once there was less targets. 

From the moment Aramis began talking tactically she knew it would go out of the window with how little d'Artagnan was paging attention. "Wait for my signal." Aramis instructed. "Surprise is everything." 

And with that, d'Artagnan charged into the ruins with his sword held high, hollering, "Gaudet!"  
Aramis and Porthos watched on in disbelief. "Well, surprise would have been everything." 

They all charged in after him, taking on a few opponents each as d'Artagnan battled Gaudet. The musketeers and Aida slaughtered the opposition with ease. So much so that Porthos had ran over to the cart of what appeared to be uniforms. A man had come up behind d'Artagnan with his pistol aimed. Aida was about to call out to him, but a different pistol fired and the man dropped dead before she had to. D'Artagnan smiled Constance who was beyond the walls of the ruins, before taking off after Gaudet again. 

Aida was about to follow him when a guard took Constance unaware and hooked a arm around her throat. Aida bolts over, her pistol in one hand and the other raised in gesture to calm her down. "Let her go and I won't kill you as slowly." Aida said as threateningly as she could muster.

The uniformed man did not react, his eyes twitched nervously but besides that his grip on Constance only tightened. Aida grew angrier as she stared down the man. She noticed Constance move her hand from the corner of her eye and jumped the man the second Constance stabbed him him the thigh with Aida's dagger.

Aida pinned the man down with all she had and battered into his face over and over again, unrelenting. Lost in her anger, she didn't have time to avoid the dagger plunging into side until it was embedded in her. She howled and rolled off of him but didn't dare remove the dagger. 

Constance was in a brief state of shock from the scene that had just unfolded but was startled out of it when her attacked suddenly tried to get up. Before she could react a bullet invaded his brain. She looked behind her to see Aramis blowing away the smoke from his pistol with a satisfied look. 

"Constance, my love, help me up before I pass out." Aida breathed with a small smile.  
Constance rushed to her side and held her up as they walked into the ruins. Just as the came into view, they witness Gaudet launch himself at d'Artagnan, only to run into d'Artagnan's sword. 

Both regret and satisfaction flashed across d'Artagnan's face, if such a thing were possible. "The stolen uniforms. They're all here." Porthos announced from beside the cart, holding up several pauldrons.  
"With Dujon's confession, that should be enough evidence." Aramis remarked, sounding content. 

Aida pushed away from Constance and stood on her own, albeit wobbly. They approached d'Artagnan and he had no time to exclaim before Aida started talking. "We should get Madame Bonacieux home, d'Art. Her husband should her home soon and I'm sure he'll chew you a new one if he finds out she's played soldier for the night." She jokes. D'Artagnan looks pointedly at her side, frowning at her lack of concern. "Yeah, fine, I'll go ask one of those pair to fix me up." She rolls her eyes and hobbles over to Aramis. 

Constance moves closer to d'Artagnan and he embraces her. "I killed someone." She mutters into d'Artagnan's chest.  
He pulled her back to look at her face, "You saved me." He said with an assuring smile. 

Aida made Aramis patch her up there and then, insisting that there was no time to do it properly. Aramis would make sure to stitch up later but for now bandaging it up extremely tight will make do. 

They dropped Constance off at her house on the way to the palace. Aramis thanking her profusely with that charm he uses on all of the ladies. They bade her goodnight quickly and rushed to the palace.  
Aramis and Porthos encouraged Aida to wait outside the throne room. They said it was for the best as a woman dressed like a man before the king would surely kick up a fuss. A fuss Athos couldn't afford. 

Cardinal Richelieu was late to court, what with it being so unplanned and early. He rushed to the throne room the second he found out that he may be caught out. He was about to enter when Aida caught his eye. He turned to face her curiously, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of her. "What are you?" Richelieu spoke slowly, taking Aida in.

"Aida d'Artagnan." She introduced herself with the falsest smile she'd ever worn. She held her hand out for him to shake. He hesitantly shook her hand, his eyes never left hers. "Now, what are you?" She parrots.

Richelieu snatches his hand away from her and raises his brow. "I am the Cardinal and the first minister of France." He said, expecting some kind of reaction from her but receiving none. "Richelieu. But you address me as Cardinal or eminence." 

Aida scrunched up her nose, "It's all a bit formal, isn't it?" She replied. "What do your friends call you?" She inquired. "Richie?" She joked, but Richelieu was not laughing. 

He walked towards her until she was backed against the wall, she tried well to conceal her tremble. "I have no friends." He hissed. "You would do well to comply with formalities. They are there for a reason. That being I am above you, I am more powerful than you. Do you understand, Aida?" He whispered.

Before she could reply with some sort of sarcastic comment or other, her three companions opened the door and stepped out into the scene outside. "Cardinal..." Aramis began, not sure what to do.  
Porthos stepped closer, "I see you've met our Aida. She's a good'n." Porthos tiptoed around them, metaphorically of course. 

"I'm sure she is." Richelieu and Aida daren't take their eyes from eachother.

"Come along, Aida." D'Artagnan encouraged.  
At this she moved out from the cardinals blockade and tipped her head slightly. "Until next time, your eminence." She said and backed away. 

There was no time for questions as they raced down the corridors to the court yards where Athos was about to be executed. "Come on! Shoot goddamn you!" They all heard Athos shout as they rounded the corner. They were sure all of Paris heard him too. 

Aramis and Porthos both rushed down the stairs. "Hold your fire!" Exclaimed Aramis, as he held up the release papers. "I wouldn't be in such a hurry to die. Your release papers," Aramis held them out to the executioner. "Signed by the king."

"Get these chains off him." Porthos ordered the keeper of the keys. 

Athos looked relieved and thoroughly smug and proud of his friends but he'd hardly show it. "I thought I'd finally shaken you too off." Athos sighed in good nature. 

Porthos laughed and shook his head. "There are easier ways." He said as the manacles were taken off of Athos.  
Athos approached the stairs ahead of the other two musketeers, passing d'Artagnan and Aida who stood at the bottom of them. Athos glanced at Aida for a small while, she deemed the look questioning and unsure. As he looked at d'Artagnan he smiled ever so slightly, and was on his way. 

They all followed him up the stairs one by one. Aida was the last to follow. As she turned she noticed someone in the window. Not just anyone - the lady from the inn on their first night here.  
Aida had now got a good look at her face and the woman just stared back before pulling her red hood over more and disappearing from sight. Aida would remember her face and perhaps ask Athos if he knew her, not that it was any of her business. But Aida sure as shit would like to know if someone was stalking her.

 

⚜

 

Once back at the garrison, Aramis tended to Aida's wound. "I cannot believe you've been walking around for over an hour with this unstitched. I should've roughly stitched it at least." 

Aida tutted. "Ah I'm alive right? One more second and Athos wouldn't have been." She reasoned. Aramis couldn't argue with that.

"Yes but we did waste several second prying you from the Cardinal's claws." Porthos returned. At this Athos raised an eyebrow, for he himself avoided the Cardinal. 

Aida shrugged and 'ow'ed when Aramis pulled the stitching a little too much at her movement. "He's nothing but a little pussycat."

Athos' lips turned up at one corner. "That may be so but he's a pussycat with a lot of power." Athos said. Trying not to make it sound like a warning.

Aida rolled her eyes. "Yes, he said something like that too." 

Aramis stood up and away from Aida, admiring his handiwork. "There. Good as new." He said as he moved the bowl of water, blood and a needle. 

"Debatable." D'Artagnan levelled from the chair on at the table. 

Aida smirked. "Come now, brother. You're just jealous that I got marked up before you." 

"Ah yes. Nothing to do with the fact that you could've died and you acted as if nothing was wrong." D'Artagnan replied sarcastically. 

Aida huffed, confused. "I'd have thought you were used to it by now, love." She said. She sounded a little concerned. 

"Yeah well, you weren't all I had left then." He admitted lowly.  
Aida sighed. "Sorry, d'Art." She said sincerely. "I'll be more careful." Aida promised.

There was silence for a while. The three musketeers share awkward looks until someone spoke. "I think we need to celebrate." Porthos announced. "Let's head out to the tavern." He suggested with a lovely smile that immediately cheered Aida up.  
"Couldn't stop me." Aramis replied. "And we definitely couldn't stop him." He added, earning a nudge from Athos. 

"What about you pair?" Porthos asked. "We'll toast to your loss and our victory." He offered considerately.

D'Artagnan stood with a shadow of a smile. "Sure." He accepted.  
Aida stood up from the bench. "Maybe another time. I'm going to go to church for bit. Say my goodbyes and whatnot."  She said. D'Artagnan was about to offer to go with her but knew she would prefer to be on her own. D'Artagnan knew from when their mother died that what Aida would want was a short time of solitude.

They all just nodded in understanding and parted ways at the entrance of the garrison. 

 

⚜

Aida had been in the pews for quite sometime. She had no clue quite how long, becoming caught up in nostalgia as she remembered her father. She remembered her mother, too, and how long it took for her to accept that Aida was just not like the other girls. She remembered just how quickly her father had accepted her. He treated her as he treated d'Artagnan; no more and no less.  
Except, when they got into trouble. Then d'Artagnan shouldered most of the blame. Not that she thought it was unfair, as almost all of the time it was d'Artagnan who had led them into trouble in the first place. But Aida always followed, and so did d'Artagnan. 

Their father was firm but fair, he had made d'Artagnan and Aida who they are today. Aida reckons that their father had intended for them to come to Paris some day. Or d'Artagnan, at least. For d'Artagnan could easily become a musketeer with what father has taught him.  
She smiled absently at the thought as a woman walked down the aisle and to the side to confession. Aida thought nothing of her and tried to fall back into her reverie. Before long there was muffled shouting that Aida could not ignore. "I know what I am!" Aida hears clearly, then there's more muffled babble. "I want revenge!" Tension and finality filled the house of God. 

The woman stormed back down the aisle, intention in her every step. Aida's eye widened as she recognised the woman as Athos' stalker. The woman halted when she saw Aida and she looked as though she was in fight or flight.  
For a while they just looked at each other cautiously, both parties feeling as though they'd been caught unawares and needed a quick exit. This was not the reality of it though. 

Aida shifted over and tapped the space beside her. The woman complied and sat next to her. She left no space between them, their thighs and shoulders touching, but made it a point to look straight ahead. "Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to interrogate me like you want to?" The lady drawled, reminding Aida of Athos' voice. 

"I don't want to interrogate you." Aida replied defensively, not looking away from her.  
"Then what do you want?" The woman questioned. She slowly turned to look at Aida, attempting to portray boredom and not much else. 

"You seemed upset." Aida began. 

"I just killed the priest." The lady told her emotionlessly. Aida laughed at her, not believing her and assuming it was an ice breaker. The woman laughed too, surprised at the young girl's naivety. "I confessed my sins. As you do. But the father would not forgive me my trespasses." She told her nonchalantly.  
Aida didn't say anything. "My sins are too much to forgive, I knew that already. It was just..." The woman paused and breathed a small sigh. "Worth a try, I suppose." She concluded, looking forward again.

Aida thought for a moment. "I understand the thought." Aida started, thinking again. "But what does the forgiveness of a stranger really mean. You can't erase sins, not really. They're always there. Mark you up as much as your good deeds do." Aida says. The woman listens but does not look back at her. 

"How do you know Athos?" Aida asks her. The lady's expression stiffens but there's no emotion detectable again. 

"I thought you weren't going to interrogate me." The lady accused.  
Aida held up her hands in surrender. "Fine, okay. Just try not to so blatantly follow him." Aida requests light heartedly.

"Blatant? You're the only one who's noticed me yet, and you're not even a professional musketeer." The woman scoffs and then turns to look at Aida. "Besides, who said I was following him?" She adds. Aida does not miss the meaning behind her words and blushes profusely. 

The woman stands up. "Come." She says softly, offering her hand to Aida.  She takes it hesitantly and stands beside her. The woman leans close to Aida's ear, her lips running gently over Aida's neck. Aida's suddenly thankful the church is empty at this time of night. "If sinning is really as invalid as you claim, then we may as well sin as much as we wish." She whispers in Aida ear, Aida resisting the urge to lean closer. 

The woman tightens her grip on her hand and pulls her down the aisle playfully. Aida has no choice but to follow, but she's anything but unwilling. They head down a staircase into the church wine cellar. The woman locks the door behind them and presses Aida against it, kissing her fiercely. 

Aida pushes her away gently. "I don't even know your name." Aida points out.  
The woman smiles. "Milady." She tells her. "Milady de Winter."  
Aida smiles, "Aida d'Artagnan." She mocking bows. "At your service." 

Milady smirks, "Indeed you are." She says. Milady threads a hand into Aida's dark thick hair and pulls her down to catch her mouth in her own.

 

⚜

When Porthos says that he'll stay behind to watch after Athos, d'Artagnan offers to instead. He insists and wants to wait up in case Aida does drop by. Porthos and Aramis are hesitant to leave d'Artagnan with such a job but they do eventually. 

Athos, acknowledging that d'Artagnan had been left to deal with his shit, made the difficult decision to pack up early. He was barely drunk, not by his standards anyway. He would have said he was a drunk as d'Artagnan was. 

D'Artagnan walked Athos home in silence mostly. He tried to conjure up conversations a few times but never did. "Forgive me, d'Artagnan. I am not the nicest drunk to be around and usually I'm paralytic by now." Athos tells him. 

A ghost of a smile traces d'Artagnan's face. "Why aren't you paralytic now then." D'Artagnan asks.  
"I would hate to tarnish what good impression you have of me." Athos says. D'Artagnan hears the playful tone but it's difficult to tell with Athos.

"Ah yes. First impressions are everything." D'Artagnan said sarcastically. 

They continued on in silence again. There were still a few people about, d'Artagnan noticed. Most of them were drunk though and ignored them both. D'Artagnan couldn't help but feel like they were purposely trying to not look in Athos' direction.

When they reached Athos' humble abode d'Artagnan hesitated at the door, unsure whether to go home or not. "You don't have to stay with me. I'm capable of putting myself to bed."

"I can say if you would like me to." The younger boy offers. Athos eyes him as if looking for the truth and he seemingly finds it as d'Artagnan shifts from foot to foot in the door frame. 

He nods, "Of course." Athos replies and beckons his friend to follow him upstairs. 

Athos hasn't got much. He has a small room with a bed, desk and wardrobe. Not much, but enough. Especially for a musketeer. D'Artagnan imagines that Athos only sleeps here and lives more or less at the garrison. "This is me." Athos proclaims.  
d'Artagnan shakes his head. "No it's not."

Athos ignores him and collapses on his bed. D'Artagnan sits at Athos' desk and that's where they both remain for most of the night. At some point, d'Artagnan had moved to the bed to a sat beside Athos. 

They talked endlessly about themselves. D'Artagnan told Athos about Gascony and his father and Aida and stories about him and Aida growing up that surprisingly brought a few gracious smiles to the man's face. 

Athos told d'Artagnan as little as he could, focusing on tales of his time in the regiment more that anything. By the end of the night d'Artagnan felt like he knew Aramis and Porthos a little better and Athos too. He had learnt that Athos had loved a woman once but she died and that he had a brother and he died too. That's all he said on those topics though and d'Artagnan didn't want to press too much.

D'Artagnan swears he doesn't mean to, but he falls asleep with Athos in his bed. He would believe himself if he hadn't thought about kissing Athos twice in their late night conversation and it would've helped if the alcohol hadn't worn off hours ago.  
He has no excuses for wanting to fall asleep pressed against Athos but nor does Athos. So he decides he'll deal with the consequences in the morning.


	4. Brothers

When d'Artagnan was brought from slumber the next morning, it was by the two people he wanted least to walk in. 

"You owe me five livre." Are the words that bring d'Artagnan awake. They're Aramis' words, which startles him because wasn't in the room when he fell asleep in Athos' bed. 

"I'm genuinely shocked, Athos. I thought you'd wait a while longer than a few hours before jumping into bed with him." Porthos replies.

"I should clarify that we did not sleep together in the sense you are thinking." Athos says. He's still in his bed, probably because it would've been difficult for him to have gotten out without waking up the young man beside him. So for now he sat propped against the wall. "Aramis..." Athos tutted. "You think so lowly of me." The amusement in Athos' voice is what gives d'Artagnan a sudden surge of confidence.

He pushes himself up on his elbow abruptly. "Me too, apparently." He accuses, glaring at Aramis with an expectant look. 

Aramis holds his hands up in defense. "I was merely observing that undeniable sexual tension. Be mad at Aida, she pointed it out first." He justified. 

D'Artagnan threw the covers off and stood up. "Yes but Aida knows me a little better than you do." 

Aramis smiles knowingly. "Exactly my point." At this valid reply d'Artagnan huffs and goes about pulling his boots on. 

The trio share a few glances that go unnoticed by their new companion. Though these glances they almost share a conversation which resulted in Athos speaking up. "You do not have a problem with men laying with men, do you d'Artagnan?"

D'Artagnan chuckled. "No, of course not." He turned around to face the three musketeers with a frown. "Besides, I was under the impression that such things were as common as they are frowned upon in Paris."

Aramis rose and patted the young lad on the back. "Indeed, you're right d'Artagnan." He said in a attempt to end the conversation. "We must be at the garrison now. You're welcome to join us." Aramis invited with a welcoming smile thrown d'Artagnan's way. 

He nodded in consent and allowed himself to ushered down the stairs by Aramis, Porthos and Athos in tow. 

When they arrived at the garrison it was just as d'Artagnan had seen it before. There were few men about and a calm aura to the place, which is the least d'Artagnan had expected when he set out to kill Athos. 

They settled at the table and began to chat. For the most part, they shared jokes at d'Artagnan's expense. Aramis and Porthos told Athos of the fight with Gaudet, how d'Artagnan ruined any element of surprise they had.   
To d'Artagnan's confusion, nobody mentioned the state in which he was found with Athos this morning which both relieved and worried him. 

They were interrupted by a man making his was down the stairs to the head of the table. Athos nodded his head in greeting, "Captain."

The man smiled, "Athos. I'm glad you boys got the misunderstanding fixed yesterday." He said, looking to Aramis and Porthos. 

Porthos, who was sat beside d'Artagnan, clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Ah, but we wouldn't have without this one here, Captain." Porthos told his captain, ruffling d'Artagnan's hair.

The Captain eyed d'Artagnan curiously. "See, I thought the boy was here with the intent to kill Athos. However, it seems I was misinformed."

"Oh no you were thought correct. He thundered in and took on your three finest musketeers." Aramis explained with a smug look. He shared a glimpse at the other two of the 'three finest musketeers'. 

"Of course," Athos butted in. "He lost."

D'Artagnan turned an outraged glare at Athos. "Only because Aida got the best of lover boy over there. I would've had you." He exclaimed defensively. 

Porthos threw an arm around the angry little Gascon cheerfully. "Peace, pup. I, for one, don't doubt your talents. You just happened to be stupid enough to pick us three to fight." D'Artagnan huffed heavily, not appreciating being treated like a kid. At the same time he looked amused and pushed Porthos off his shoulders. 

The three men chuckled at the youngest friends displeasure. "Athos." The captain brought the attention back to him. "A word in my office." He said, turned on his heel and jogged up the stairs. 

With a tip of his hat, Athos was after the captain. "That better be about a mission." Porthos began. "I never thought I'd be sick of seeing that bloody palace but running around after the king is just extreme babysitting." 

Aramis breathed a laugh, "Careful now, that's treason." 

"Only if the wrong person hears you." Aida retorted as she sat down next to Aramis. "Mornin' fellas." 

"Where did you get to last night?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Didn't feel up for the tavern. Just headed straight back to Constance's, kipped in the spare room." She explained. "Which is ours to rent, by the way." 

"I see it is not just rooms that Madame Bonacieux has been generous with." Aramis remarks, prodding the purpling bruises at the base of Aida's neck. 

She elbowed him before pulling her shirt further up her neck. "In your dreams, love." She scoffed and turned to look at her brother who sat across from her. By the look on his face she guessed he wanted an explanation. "Okay so I may have taken a detour in between church and Constance's." She said. "Actually no. Detour is the wrong word, we didn't actually leave the church." 

D'Artagnan put his face in his hands, "Okay, okay, spare me the details!" He groaned. 

Aramis leant in nearer to Aida, "Give me the details later." He whispered with a wink. 

Aida laughed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, brother. You're forgetting that I know that you didn't go to Constance's last night either, so where were you?" 

Porthos and Aramis chuckled at the memory. Aramis was about to answer for him when d'Artagnan kicked his shins hard under the table, causing him to hiss instead of answer. Aida's eyes almost fell out of her head when she realised what was happening. "Oh my god! Athos!" She said with a light questioning tone. When nobody denied it her eyes lit up once more. "I fucking knew it!" She exclaimed.

At that moment, Athos came down the stairs. "What's all the excitement about?" He asked as he came to stand at the table. 

D'Artagnan answered quickly. "Nothing, Aida's just a bit delusional is all. You're not in trouble again are you?" He asked, desperate to move the conversation along. 

Athos looked amused, his smile never really came across as genuine. It was always small and seemed lost on his face, as though joy was foreign to it. "That's debatable." He replied.

"How so?" Porthos inquired. 

"Treville has proposed that d'Artagnan take up an apprenticeship here as a musketeer." Athos told them. "Meaning we'll be training him. That is if he accepts." 

D'Artagnan looked to his sister for support and find her eagerly nodding her head. "What about Aida? She's the best shot I know, and the same precision is replicated in her throwing knives too." D'Artagnan told them in a attempt to vouch for her. He didn't even know if she minded but he knew she would love to. The thought of d'Artagnan doing something Aida couldn't was unsettling to him.

Athos sighed. "That may be so but even if Treville gave her an apprenticeship I doubt very much that the King would give a woman commission into his musketeers." He said, actually sounding sympathetic. 

"It's fine, d'Art." Aida said softly. "I do not need any permission to fight alongside you. Never have." 

D'Artagnan still looked conflicted. "Can't you get her an apprenticeship too?"

Then Athos looked conflicted, unable to bring himself to tell the young boy no. "I shall inquire at a later date." He gave in, avoiding sounding anything close to upbeat as to not raise their hopes. "To ask for one after he's just offered one would only lower her chances." D'Artagnan nodded in agreement.

"There's no rush." Aida said cheerfully after silence had feel on the group. "As I say, I'm going to be with him anyway. Apprenticeship or not." She said sternly, daring someone to argue with her. 

"We expect nothing less." Porthos replied. Aida and d'Artagnan smiled at their newfound friends. Not at them but at the thought of them, that they had found such a new beginning without even looking for it. 

Aida, of course, was ecstatic. Whatever the future may hold from now, she knew that it will be what she wanted. What d'Artagnan and herself needed. Most of all she knew how proud Alexandre d'Artagnan would be of his son. It had become clear to Aida, now, that this was what their father intended. 

She was determined that their father's intention would be brought to life, even if he was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the intro book. I want to write more and move away from rewriting episodes.
> 
> If you liked what you've read them please let me know, I need validation to live and I'd love to know you're thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think?  
> Thanks for reading, I hope you like this a little bit.


End file.
